Don't Press Your Luck
by chittychittyletsbang
Summary: There's something fishy happening down in Sri Lanka, and the K-Unit have been sent in on a bloody rescue mission. A RESCUE mission, of all things! Nonetheless, they expected drug cartels and illegal doings, not... not the teenage super-spy they bunked with back in who knows when. Oh, Lord, this is going to get complicated.
1. Chapter 1

Hi! :D Thanks for clicking on my story! :) So I'm just giving the whole Alex and K-Unit thing a shot, because honestly, it looks like SO MUCH FUN.I think I made Wolf too mean, though. :'D my bad. So here goes nothing, first chapter down! :)

Uh, just wanna throw a warning out for strong language. I use a lot of that in here, haha.

Oh, and ignore the weird tense changes. I kind of went from past-tense to present-tense back to past-tense without noticing. D: Sorry about that. The story was intended to be past-tense, and will be for the remainder, except for this little mishap, haha.

This chapter isn't really meant to be informative, other than the situation they're in. I'll go into more detail about Alex and his mission and all that jazz later on. :) Thanks for reading!

* * *

The sun beat down on the streets of the heart city of Sri Lanka. Colombo -ever bustling with rushing civilians- had recently been hit by a massive heat wave that had people scrambling for shade and water. The beaches became highly populated, and there was no way to get anything done in an organized fashion- no, not on the busy streets of Colombo, where merchants are hollering deals in multiple languages, and if you're not careful, you could be run over. A blond head bobbed down the crowded lane with impressive ease, sliding through crevices and spaces in the mass of people. He skillfully dodged around a fruit cart, and ducked under a rug balanced on a woman's shoulders. The air was dry and thick, and the blond's hair was matted down with sweat. He licked his lips, eyes searching faces like a tiger prowling for prey.

He spotted a man, tall, dark-skinned, obviously a tourist. The man was squinting, and he muttered something to himself, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the sun. The blond stuck close to the crowd, staying a safe distance. Tall, dark, and handsome stepped into a small bar, and the blond followed behind stealthily.

The bar barely made the cut of "middle class". The bar stools were wobbly, with rips in the cushions. The man sat on a stool and nearly tumbled over. The blond, across the street, snickered. He approached the bar with complete ease, stepping across the creaky floor, towards the man. Now in the bar, the blond could observe much better. There's a single window, stained glass, dirty enough for the colors to all blend into a colorfully muddy color. There's a pair of men in the back corner playing cards, though the blond cant tell what game. There are few booths, and even fewer tables. And judging by the look the bartender gives him, the blond supposes this is the kind of bar where you get in, you pay good money, and you get out. No questions. Approaching the man, the boy trips, tumbling into a firm back. The man at the bar turns, surprised and irritated, and the boy holds up his hands, head bowed. "Sorry! _Ginoo_, sorry!" The boy added an accent to the apology- Filipino was a language he had only just begun to learn, and the only one he felt he could pull off in Sri Lanka. It wasn't like he spoke Tamil or Sanhala. No, definitely not.

The boy doesn't wait for a response, and instead, makes his way back to the bathroom. He closes the door behind him slowly, and searches the wallet with unbelievable speed. He pulls out seven $20 bills -American currency, he notices in amusement- and two of the credit cards, slipping them into the pocket on the inside of his pants. He closes what's remaining of the wallet and slips it into his back pocket, this time. There's a window -grimier than the ones in the front, if possible- that hangs askew. The toilet is just under the window, and the boy uses it to push himself up and wiggle out. He lands sloppily, nearly falling to his knees in the dusty alley. He touches his fingers to his back pocket to ensure the wallet is still there, and allows himself a smirk. Success.

He nonchalantly saunters out of the alley, turning away from the bar. With the money he's just scored, maybe he can afford a decent hotel. Or decent food. Begging gets old quick, you know. The street's hustle and bustle intensifies a few feet ahead, towards the major intersection, and the boy turns into another alley, not wanting to bother with traffic. He approaches the opposite mouth of the alley, and takes a step out, but-

He's harshly pulled back and slammed into the brick wall of the alley. His cheek is pressed against the bricks, his entire front pressed firmly against the wall. The impact of his skull against the wall makes him see stars. It takes him a moment to realize the man is talking. "... fuck is it, kid?" A man hisses vehemently. The boy licks his lips, shaking his head against the bricks, which are shockingly cool. He wonders why more people don't chill out in the alleys on blistering days like this.

"_Ano_? _Ano_? _Hayaan pumunta_!" The boy yells out, surprising himself with fluent Filipino.

"English, kid!"

A hand begins to search him.

"_Maghintay_!" The blond shouts, twisting in the man's grasp, struggling to see a face. "Wait! What are you talking about?" He keeps the accent lightly laced in between pronunciations. He doesn't want to blow his cover yet. Not even to this bastard.

"Where. Is. My. Wallet?" The man all but growls, and the boy realized precisely what's happening here.

"I don't know what you mean, _ginoo_." The boy says, sounding puzzled.

"You know exactly what I mean, brat." The man is getting impatient, the hand beginning its search again.

"Ba-back pocket!" The boy yells finally. "It's in my back pocket."

The wallet is snatched out of the pocket, and the man releases him only to shove him back into the wall once he's turned around. "Who the shit are you, stealing people's wallets?" He sounds less angry now, but still quite intimidating.

To most people.

The boy doesn't seem to be bothered by the glare, or the tone, and instead shrugs, lowering his head. "Money doesn't grow on trees, _ginoo_. I'm poor. You have money. I need money."

There's a pause, and his hair is grabbed. Roughly, but not too roughly, his head is tugged upwards, and blue eyes meet brown eyes.

"... _Cub_?" The old nickname is so startling and unexpected that the boy jerks, eyes wide.

It doesn't take long for the boy to rethink his situation, and he wastes no time kicking out a foot, tripping the man up. The moment his grip on the boy loosens, the boy is shooting off, sprinting down the alley. There is only _one_ reason he would be in Sri Lanka, and that reason is _not_ in the boy's favor.

He shoots out of the alley, running into a disgruntled man, shoving through the crowd. Stealth forgotten, the boy is shoving and pushing, desperate. The temperature hasn't decreased, and sweat is beading on his forehead. He's not sure if its the heat causing him to sweat.

He takes only the smaller streets, which are noticeably less busy. Several blocks pass before he allows himself a look back. The man is nowhere to be seen. The boy slows, moistening his lips. This is _bad_.

He walks briskly, not quite convinced that he's in the clear, and heads towards his hotel. He's been staying in a very down class hotel. Maids that don't bother to make the bed, or even clean the bathrooms very well. Though the boy does notice frequent changes in the arrangement of the contents of his luggage. The breakfasts are health risks, but the boy doesn't eat much anymore anyway- often not without throwing it all back up. But that was unimportant. He functions well enough with water and a small meal.

Without noticing, he's begun to approach the hotel. The outside was just as grimy as the inside, sadly. Windows cracked, paint chipped, and some sketchy beggars have found a home in the old hotel. But alas, it's the only one he can afford.

He fishes in his pocket for his room key, and holds it up, sighing. This certainly wasn't how he planned on spending his summer. He's about to put it in his pocket when a hand grabs his wrist, spinning him around, and the boy expects the same dark, bemused face from earlier that he really hadn't expected to see in the first place, but, no, it's-

"_Ben_?"

Ben Daniels looked almost relieved that the boy remembered him, and smiled widely. "Long time no see, Alex."

* * *

Sometimes, Wolf hated his job.

Well, no, that's going a bit far.

Sometimes he really wished he wasn't the one picked for the tiresome tasks.

Wolf wasn't sure why his unit was chosen for this... this rescue mission. M-Unit had been sent out here, out to Sri Lanka of all places, to check out a suspicious turn of events. An underground black market, or something of the sort. Extremely toxic drugs and weapons not legalized without proper registration were being traded and passed around like candy on Halloween, and for some reason, the government decided to stick their noses into it. Really, wasn't that America's job? But anyway, M-Unit lost contact, and hadn't been heard from, so naturally, a rescue team was sent in. Which just so happened to be Wolf's unit. Again. It really wasn't like Wolf had anything else to do, but... he'd gladly go back to doing nothing if he didn't have to stand out in this smoldering heat. Sweating profusely, Wolf decided that he needed a much deserved drink.

The bars around the town weren't exactly LA spiffy, but he'd have to deal, considering he was thousands of miles away from LA. Stepping into a shady bar, Wolf decided that he'd kick anyone who told him he'd have to do something like this again in the face. Wolf sat down at the bar -covering up an almost-fail quite nicely, in his opinion, as the seat nearly gave beneath him- and ordered the first thing he saw. Anything cold would do by now.

He thought about making conversation with the bartender, but remembered his own trouble with social things, and kept his mouth sealed, instead focusing on how crappy the air conditioning was in this joint. The fans looked like they would break immediately if they were turned on. It took him a moment to realize they were, in fact, spinning around. Too slowly to actually produce any kind of air to comfort the bar's customers -which were only a few people, who looked used to this kind of weather- but they were moving. Wolf gave them credit for not having fallen to the ground. Actually, he kind of felt like he had to give the entire bar credit for not crashing down. It seriously looked like a safety hazard, what, with the slightly angled walls, and the unkempt booths, and what the hell was that thing on the grou-

Wolf is jostled forward, and he turns, ready to bitch out whoever ran into him, when he comes face to face with a blonde, dirtied face, with pleading blue eyes peeking out at him from behind his hair. The kid babbled an apology in -what was that, Filipino? Wolf was going to calm him down -he looked like he was going to have a stroke or something- but the kid was already heading to the restroom at the back. "Guess the kid had to go bad." Wolf muttered to himself, returning to his musings.

His drink was placed sloppily in front of him, and as Wolf contemplated slamming the guy's head into the bar for disrespect -this kind of stuff would never pass back in Brecon Beacons, but then again they didn't have bars back in Brecon Beacon- he takes a sip of the drink. Oh, _so_ worth the wait. Jesus, he should order the first thing he sees more often, because this drink is out of this world, like seriously, his mind is being blown, and a hand jabs into his sights as Wolf downs the drink. The bartender is waiting for his pay. Wolf nods, fishing in his back pocket for his wall-

His wallet.

Which is...

Not there.

What the _hell_?

Okay, hold on. Wolf _didn't_ lose things. Snake, sure. Eagle? Definitely. Fox? Sometimes, but always easily found items. Wolf? _Never_. Did he leave it at the hotel? No, he couldn't have. He brought it with him _intending_ _to_ _spend_ some of the money he'd been given "for his troubles". So, then... Where could it possibly...?

Wait.

Hold on.

Holy... holy _shit_.

The babbling kid from before had bumped into him quite cleanly, Wolf remembered with a snarl. He shot up from the seat, ignoring the shout from the bartender, and kicked down the bathroom door. The room before him, unfortunately, expectantly, was empty. No kid. No wallet. No _nothing_, except dirt and flies. Wolf was going to kill someone.

He threw himself out of the bathroom towards the door. The bartender lunged out, grabbing his arm. "Money!" He snapped. "My money!"

Wolf turned, pressing the man into the bar, snarling in his face. "My. Money. Was. Just. Stolen. From. Me. Dickface." He shoved the man aside and sprinted out of the trainwreck bar, searching frantically. The mop of blond hair was bouncing and bobbing about a block over, he noticed as he began to push through. He'd catch that fucking kid if it were the last thing he did.

It took him forever and a day to finally catch up to the little bastard. He kept turning corners, going in backstreets, and quite frankly, Wolf felt like he was in a game of cat and mouse. And he didn't like it. Wolf always hated games like tag and cops and robbers when he was a kid, and his hatred for chase games didn't end here. In fact, he thought that if these people didn't move out of his way_ right now_ he was going to be put in jail for murder.

Finally -_finally_- he caught up to the kid in a damp alley, and took no time slamming him into the wall. Hey, no mercy for thieves, right?

There was a not-so-quick exchange and, in the end, Wolf got his wallet back. Damn straight he did. But when the kid turned, and Wolf got a better look, well...

Let's just say Wolf isn't easily stunned.

But he was now.

"... _Cub_?" He asked the blond dumbly. And it seemed he was right on the bulls-eye, judging by the way the kid's eyes widened with an odd sort of panic.

And then he was off, running like a cheetah. Literally, the moment Wolf stepped forward to pursue him, he was gone, swallowed up by the crowd of Colombo. Wolf wanted to kick something. Instead, he flipped out his phone, pressing a number. He tapped his foot impatiently, thinking that of all the times Ben answered on the first ring, he couldn't do it now.

Finally, - on what, the last flipping ring?- Ben answered with a, "'Lo?"

"Fox!" Wolf hadn't easily fallen out of his habit of calling the old member Fox. "Fox, I found him. Didn't mean to, but I found hi-"

"You found Alex?" Ben asked, sounding delighted. He laughed. "That's great! Where is he?"

"Kid ran off like a spooked horse, Fox," Wolf snapped, sighing. "Stole my wallet, the little brat. Least he gave it back." Wolf quickly sifted through his wallet, and froze. "That bloody brat! I'm going to bloody _kill_ him! He stole my twenties, and my credits!"

Fox sounded nervous. "Wait, you lost him? Where- did you see what direction he went? Shit, Wolf!"

"Fox, my _money_!"

Ben's sigh was highly audible through the phone. "He's probably the only one running in a crowd like this... We'll find him. I'll go to the rooftops, you go behind the direction he went. We have to find him, Wolf."

Putting aside the robbery he was just victim in, Wolf started running after Alex. "What about Eagle and Snake?" They'd gotten a few applications for a new recruit for K-Unit, but before any serious debating was put into it, they'd been- well, shipped off here.

"They're here, came back from lunch a bit ago. We'll all go out and look, now that we have a solid lead."

"A'ight," Wolf said, snapping his phone shut and shoving it in his pocket. He didn't care that part of the mission was to find the spy sent to assist them since, really, this was a spy's mission, sneaking around in criminal territory, not a bunch of soldiers'. He was going to get his bloody money back if it was the last thing he did.

He _earned_ that money, god dammit.

* * *

_ginoo_ - gentleman, sir

_Maghintay - _Wait

_Ano_? _Ano_? _Hayaan pumunta_! - What? What? Let me go!

I used google translate for these since I definitely _cannot_ speak Filipino, haha. So if you ARE Filipino, or speak it, sorry if it's wrong! :')


	2. Chapter 2

Hi, again! :) Thanks for reading my story and -if you reviewed- reviewing! Haha, and also deciding you wanna give chapter two a try. ;) So, I've decided to make this story sort of set directly after Crocodile tears, so Jack's still alive, everyone's happy -kind of- and yeah. Just that for you, in case you were wondering.

**Mazken**: I decided to make him speak Filipino simply because it was the first language I could think that might possibly be spoken even a little bit in Sri Lanka. Tamil and Sinhala -thanks for the correction :) - are more... made up of symbols, and I didn't want to just copy and past that into here, so I just went with Filipino. I figured it wouldnt be too random if Alex the teenage Superspy decided to learn Filipino, haha. Sorry if it is! : ) I'm not Sri Lankan- you are? :0 Because that's so cool, like seriously. Thank you for the offer! :) Thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed the first chapter!

**mariahxcarter**: You're Filipino? :O That's so cool! A Sri Lankan and a Filipino girl reading my story. Haha! That's really exciting! Yeah, I don't know _how_ I accidentially started writing in present-tense, but by the time I realized it and was reading back through, it was too late. :') I'm glad they were correct, though! Lol, I'm not sure how reliable Google Translate is, so I was a little nervous copying and pasting those in. But no need to worry, I guess! :) Thank you very much! I'm happy you enjoyed it.

Thanks to all of you who reviewed and liked it! :)

* * *

Alex had been sent on this mission... quite spontaneously.

Well, when he saw Jack's little European automobile after school one Friday, black SUV's chilling in front and in back of her car, it was hard to call it anything but spontaneous. And don't even get Alex started on Jack's outburst the moment he got in the car. ("How _dare_ they pull this? This is _unacceptable_!" "You _just_ got finished with a mission, Alex, they can't make you do this again." "I can't even _believe_ this is _happening_." "Let's just run off to Cancun, Alex. Come on, who'll look for us in Cancun?")

Long story short, they were escorted to Royal and General Bank, and Alex was informed of the details of his -inevitable- mission. Jack shouted a bit, and Alex slouched in his chair, hating his life, and Blunt -as always- didn't bat an eyelash. Mrs. Jones wasn't present, but Alex didn't that that was of much concern. In a matter of thirty six hours, Alex was on a 4 am flight to Nagercoil, India. From there, he took a boat to Colombo.

Alex's general understanding of the mission was that, in an underground cohort, hazardous items were being illegally sold. This wasn't exactly a new concept, especially in the southern hemisphere of the world, but MI6 had been keeping an eye on Klaus Hardy, an infamous drug dealer. According to Blunt, he was notorious for selling drugs widely banned. And after he was nearly jailed in his last near-drug-bust, he'd migrated down to India and -eventually- Sri Lanka. He was a big contributor -and creator- of the underground cohort (Blunt had said that whether or not this illegal cult had named themselves was unknown, but Alex had taken to calling it the Underground, for now.)

Blunt had sent him to Sri Lanka to simply track Hardy down, and to contact MI6. "We'll handle the rest," Blunt had said.

Somehow, Alex wasn't entirely convinced.

So far, the task of finding Hardy had proven much more difficult than previously thought. Alex had yet to see the man outside of the profile he'd been given. From the picture, Alex had observed a cleanly shaven, blonde, grey-eyed man with a slant to his smile and a pair of eyebrows drawn in a challenging fashion. Picture perfect douche bag. That picture was a mug-shot, and all the other pictures were blurred, and it wasn't uncommon for Hardy to be wearing a hat, or a hoodie to shadow most of his face. So not much to go off of there.

Alex had managed to track what city he was currently inhabiting, but he couldn't seem to find the man himself. People became suspiciously jittery whenever his name came up, and nobody saw fit to inform a child of such a veiled cohort. Alex had sifted through the case file, hoping to find aliases, or partners of any sort, but it amounted to nothing. It was almost as if the man had no previous relations whatsoever.

The Underground in general hadn't been exactly difficult to find. It was deep in in the forest, somewhere between forest reserves -there were many of those, Alex had noted quickly. The compound was a low building, one story, made completely of thick wood. It was hidden in a low part of the ground, with high, arched fences covered in camouflage protecting it from curious, wandering animals, or people. The fence's door was located somewhere in the back, and once you were in, before you sat the small building. Alex had skillfully ascended one of the thick trees surrounding the compound -he guessed they used the trees in this area to make the compound, seeing as they were thick, with thin branches, and close to no animals living in them- and had made a mental map.

However, finding the location where these dealings happened wasn't the mission. It was finding the main man himself, the man who started the entire business. Alex thought that Blunt might have just assumed that Alex would shut down the entire operation instead of just finding the head operator, but really, there wasn't much difference, was there? Blunt was certainly tricky that way.

Alex hadn't taken down the operation right then and there, and he'd made quick work of it to get out before he was seen. He was weaponless. Not even supplied from Smithers. He'd been left completely to his own devices, which was almost as frustrating as the fact that he'd been bothered to go on this mission at all.

Alex had also been in need of money. Blunt had failed to give him much more than what he could use for food and water, what he could use for survival, so Alex had resorted to pick-pocketing. And, so far, he hadn't been caught.

_Well_, Alex thought dryly,_ not until now_.

Fox was still looking at him with glee, with an old-friend-glow to his smile. He shook his wrist out of Fox's grasp, and Fox smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry, mate," he said, "it's just- we've been trying to find you for at least a week now. It's quite the victory for us to have finally found you." Alex must've looked confused, because Fox quickly added, "We were sent to assist you with your mission."

"Assist me?" Alex almost sneered, and he paused. His eyes narrowed dangerously. "_We_?"

"Uh- the K-Unit. And I. We've been... reunited, for now." Fox nodded, trying to hold Alex's eyes. He couldn't afford to lose him again- not when it took Fox and the team this bloody long to find the kid. "We're backup, or something like it. If you'd just come back to the apartment we're all staying in, we can explain in better detail."

Alex shook his head. "No, you guys come here." He knew Fox, but that didn't stop the suspicion -or worry that they'd be spotted by someone and grouped together(Alex _had_ already made people suspicious, you know)- from rising.

"Well, that's not..." Fox's lips thinned into a line, and he seemed to realize what the situation is here. Fox wasn't the one making the decisions here, Alex was. And both of them know damn well that when Alex doesn't wish to be caught and/or to cooperate, he doesn't get caught and/or cooperate. "Alright. We'll be here, in about one, two hours?"

Alex nodded. "Okay."

Fox turned to go, but whirled around at the last minute, catching Alex's arm. Alex, startled, twisted their positions so Fox was bent forward, Alex behind him holding Fox's arm at an odd angle. Realizing the situation, Alex immediately let go, looking around with an almost sheepish curve to his grimace. "I- didn't mean to do that."

Fox was already nodding, understanding. "S'all right, mate. Happens to everyone." No, no, it really doesn't. "We'll be here, but uh- what room are you in?"

Alex, looking around, flashed the small key at Fox. Engraved in the side of the key is 147. Fox nodded. He couldn't place why Alex was so secretive already, but he supposed Alex would explain once the current situation was completely understood.

"Alright," Fox smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring fashion. "We'll be there."

Alex returned the smile with an exasperated quirk of the lips.

* * *

As if the awkwardness with Alex before hadn't been enough, the moment Fox stepped through the door to his own hotel room, he was bombarded with not only a curious Eagle's questions, but a fuming Wolf.

"Where's the brat? Where's my money? Dammit, Fox!"

"What's happening, Fox? Was he surprised? I bet he was, huh?"

Fox held his hand up, silencing them both. "Yes, Eagle, he seemed surprised. I didn't ask about your money, Wolf." Walking further into the room, Fox sat down on the couch, sighing as his limps loosened up gratefully. He hadn't noticed how tense he was until that moment. Huh. "We're meeting Alex at his hotel in a few hours."

"We're going there?" Snake, coming out of the kitchen with a pile of sandwiches atop a chipped plate, asked.

"Why the hell are we doing that?" Wolf growled. Fox sent him a knowing look- Wolf never liked to be out of the loop for long, especially when it came to his team.

"We're going there because we can't risk spooking him yet."

"You make him sound like a wild animal," Snake said, amusement laced in his tone. Fox smiled without humor.

"Food!" Eagle chimed as Snake placed the plate on the coffee table. He snatched the first one, nearly swallowing it whole.

"So where is this place?" muttered Wolf, still cross with the turn of events.

"Its not far from here, actually," said Fox thoughtfully. Saying it aloud made him realize how absolutely pathetic it was that they couldn't even figure out what part of the city Alex was in, nonetheless find Alex himself.

"How long do we have until we go meet him?" Snake asked, taking a bite of his own sandwich. Wolf grabbed one for himself, and handed the last one to Fox.

"About an hour and a half. Give or take." Fox sighed. "So eat up, gentlemen."

Wolf, apparently deciding that it was time for the unit leader to actually, you know, lead, announced, "Bring a gun with you, each of you. And pocket knives or whatever weapon will fit into your pockets. We don't know what to expect, but 'expect the best, plan for the worst, and prepare to be surprised.'"

Fox smiled at the old Denis Waitley quote. It was nice to know things with his old unit hadn't changed much.

* * *

Alex could trust the K-Unit.

Back at Brecon Beacons? He wasn't sure about that.

But here, on a mission? He was almost one hundred percent positive that he could trust them.

In the long run, he really didn't have a choice.

That didn't stop Alex from closing all of the shutters, but loosening and oiling the hinges (apparently the hotel didn't believe in actual windows) for a quick escape, if necessary. He moved all of the furniture to the perimeter of the room, the couch with its back to the door, the chair between two windows, facing the door. Alex figured he couldn't be too cautious. Not really.

After ensuring that the entire room was prepared for any sort of ruckus, Alex sat back, and thought.

That was a pastime of his lately, thinking. All he ever did was think. Before he'd been escorted -towed, forced, herded- to Royal and General, Alex had been having a reasonably good day. Tom was supportive as ever, asking Alex in hushed whispers if "those bastards" had tried to contact him. Alex knew he was lucky to have such a loyal friend. He needed one. Often, he saw Tom laughing with others, and he thought that he'd be fine if Tom decided that being his friend was simply too troublesome, but...

Alex didn't the he _would_ be fine. Not if something like that happened. Alex always told himself that he'd be fine, he'd cope without people in his life. But then he remembers who _is_ in his life. Jack, vibrant and explosive, making him an Italian-esque dinner, taking him to the Art gallery when he's down, adding her unique commentary to the movies they'd watch. And Tom, loyal and glowing, always cracking jokes, always supportive in whatever Alex was going through. Even that one time he'd wanted to start a band, back in seventh grade, even though Alex knew that none of his friends could play an instrument to save their lives. Sabina, too, made herself known as a friend often. Her, with her sweet words of comfort when that familiar sigh of fatigue came over the microphone on Skype.

Thinking about the people he _did_ have usually made the pain of thinking about all the people he didn't have vanish.

And then, there was K-Unit.

Alex wouldn't exactly call them his friends, but... he'd call them acquaintances.

He couldn't easily forget his encounter with Wolf -not many people remember snowboarding down a mountain on a makeshift snowboard and then getting hit by a train- or his brief partnership with Fox. Eagle and Snake? Distant. Fox and Wolf? Familiar. Or, well, familiar enough. And two out of four wasn't that bad, really. Wasn't that worrying.

Of course, he didn't forget Brecon Beacons easily, either. He was reminded of it often, by the littlest things. Even the simple letter B made him grimace. A girl in his class -Becky Briggs- often wrote her own initials on her papers. She sat behind them, so seeing the BB every time she passed her paper up was definitely a reminder.

Yeah, Brecon Beacons could have gone forgotten.

Alex rubbed his eyes. He didn't want to be here. If K-Unit was fine enough to get sent in, why not just have them do it?

A knock at the door broke him out of his reverie, and Alex sighed. "Show time."


	3. Chapter 3

An uncomfortable silence settled over the room, awkward shifting of weight the only sound. Alex obviously hadn't bothered to make his guests feel welcome, Snake thought with amusement. The boy looked out at them with a hard stare, moving from one, to the other, to the other, to the last, and repeating the process, as if looking for something. It'd been a while since Snake had last seen Alex, and he had to say... The boy certainly grew into his body. Sure, in Brecon Beacons, Alex had a notable amount of muscles -many more than the usual British schoolboy lifestyle required- but now Alex was... Fuller, and his jaw was more sculpted. His eyes, too, had grown darker. With what, Snake couldn't decipher.

"Well, this is fun," Eagle said cheerily, breaking the silence so easily that Snake almost felt silly for not doing it himself. "Just some old teammates reuniting- its sweet, really."

"I don't recall being considered a teammate," Alex replied blankly, and Eagle almost shrunk back.

"Hey, brat," Wolf snapped (Snake assumed that the absence of silence was a go-ahead for Wolf), "where's my money?"

Alex leveled him with a stare. "I gave it back to you."

Wolf almost snarled. "No, you really didn't. I fact, you barely gave me _any_. I want my money back, you bloody thief."

Alex snorted, but fished in his pocket for a moment before taking out a few bills and credit cards. He tossed the money at Wolf -he'd even taken care to wrap it in a rubber band, as if he anticipated this moment- and Wolf snatched it out of the air, managing to make the action look accusatory.

"So, Alex," Fox smiled, obviously trying to deflate the tension. "How are you?"

"Peachy," Alex replied indifferently. "How's the arm?"

Fox shrugged. "Better." He paused, glancing at Snake, before asking, "How's your bu-"

Alex cut him off with the sharpness of a blade. "_Fine_." He swallowed, taking a split second to compose himself. "It's fine, thanks."

The room fell silent once more. Snake looked at his teammates briefly. Eagle was fiddling with his hands, looking around, opening and closing his mouth every few minutes as if thinking of starting a conversation, but thinking better of it. Wolf's eyes hadn't left Alex, narrowed and on guard, as if he expected the kid to implode. Fox seemed much more relaxed, leaning forward, arms crossed on his knees, a soft look in his eye. Fox had never really given specifics of his mission in Australia, but Snake at least knew about Alex's presence there, and Fox's injuries.

"What have you all done so far?" Alex asked suddenly.

The unit exchanged glances, before Eagle blurted, "Well, there's not really much to do here, in my honest opinion. I suggested mini golf, but _noooo_, Wolfy here just wasn't having it. What do you have against mini golf, Wolf? Never gotten a hole in one-?"

"I was talking about the case."

"I- oh," Eagle looked chastised.

"We haven't gotten far," Fox supplied helpfully. "We were debriefed, and out first priority was to look for you. I'm guessing you probably know more than we do." Fox smiled as if it were an inside joke.

And, looking back at Alex, Snake noticed the small smile in the boy's eyes- Alex understood the reference, obviously.

"A bit," replied Alex. He took a moment to explain his place in the mission, his knowledge.

And, after the boy was finished, Snake couldn't help but mumble, "'_A bit_', he says."

Alex's lips twitched, and for a single moment, Snake thought -hoped- the boy would smile, but to no avail. The hard look replaced the moment of humor quickly.

"Okay, Alex," Fox said, all business by this point. "What's the game plan?"

Alex, taken for surprise, shook his head, looking a bit puzzled. "Sorry?"

"The game plan. The strategy. The tactic." Fox smiled softly, and Snake felt as if he were intruding on a moment by just being in the room. "I trust your judgement, Alex."

Alex was silent for a moment, staring hard at Fox, before he licked his lips and said, "I was thinking we could do recon. I already researched the building they're operating from, sightings, notable people involved..."

Fox nodded. "Okay, we'll do that. Should we split into pairs, or groups, or stay together?"

Alex opened his mouth to reply, but Wolf beat him to it. "Fox, the _hell_ are you _doing_? He's a kid, what the hell does he know about strategy? You can't just-"

"Well, I am, Wolf. Shut up." Fox said, without any real malice. Wolf's jaw snapped shut, his expression furious. "Go ahead, Alex."

"There's an uneven number, so we should do one group of two, one of three. The group of two will go further into the compound than the group of three, as to not attract as much possible attention. Plus, if some of us do get discovered, there'll still be the other group to escape and regroup."

Fox nodded once in agreement and said, "Alright. Do you have a route we can go?"

Alex stood up, striding into the kitchen, opening a cabinet, and pulling out an old can of soup. He opened it and turned it upside down. A small, folded, dirty piece of paper fell into his open palm. He replaced the can and unfolded the paper as he made his way back over to the chair. Dropping the paper into Fox's lap, Alex explained, "I mapped out the compound. Obvious and most frequently used entrances and exits, heavy security hot spots, best places to observe without being seen easily..." Alex trailed off, dropping back into the seat.

K-Unit crowded around the map, eyes darting across the paper at the neatly labelled map. It was indeed impressive. Unexpectedly impressive, comparing this Alex to the one from Brecon Beacons. Looking at him and his ability to cope in such a situation made Snake second guess their previous '_rich-boy-here-as-punishment_' assumption.

They made a solid plan. The pairs were Alex and Fox, and Eagle, Wolf, and Snake. Alex and Fox would hide out in a supply truck, and ease their way in the building in convincing enough disguises. Eagle, Wolf, and Snake would report any activity on the outside, and act as back-up (something Wolf was visibly upset about).

They'd make their way over at nightfall -more cover provided that way- and wait until dawn to proceed into the building. Until then, they settled into a companionable silence with the static-y TV playing.

* * *

WOW sorry for that really crappy ending omg. And that I haven't updated. My computer broke down and I went on vacation (actuallay going on a month long vacation in a few days, too) BUT ANYWAY thank you for reading, as always, and review if you'd like! :) I'm actually really excited about next chapter so I'll probably update in the next few days. And next chapter will be longer than this one! I promise! For some reason this one is really unusually short? Haha, idk why.

Thanks for reading! :)


	4. Chapter 4

It was dusk when they set out.

The streets had grown considerably less populated, and the night fell over Sri Lanka in a veil of cool, chilly breezes, and humid, thick air. It was a good walk, a few miles through the woods. At the beginning of their walk, they moved awkwardly, not quite whole. Alex skirted the city, slipping up behind and beside people without them noticing at all, like a shadow, of sorts. Wolf and Eagle, however, were not so graceful. Eagle kept breaking the silence with jabs and jokes that he'd hoped would lighten the mood a bit (he never was a fan of the pre-mission jitters), which, in turn, forced a gruff, "Eagle, if you don't shut up,_ I swear to God._"

Snake had been quiet, sticking closely to Fox. He liked to observe, Alex noted. It was often easy to forget Snake was there, until the medic decided to speak up, or shift his weight. Other than that, Alex found himself having to remind himself of Snake's presence. Fox had taken a few go's at sparking up small talk with Alex. "_How's school going_?" and "_Done anything fun lately_?" The latter was responded to with a dry quirk of a blonde eyebrow.

They started on the perimeter of Colombo, making their way deeper into the forest, keeping close to the undergrowth for any needed cover. They'd packed lightly, each armed with a handgun, Wolf and Fox carrying rifles and walkie talkies. Their clothes were dark, their expressions darker. Every half hour, Alex made sure to voice their progress. Night had fallen completely by the time they heard faint voices, movement, up ahead. Keeping low, Alex peered through some brush at the compound. There were already supply trucks transferring material Alex couldn't make out from his spot. He glanced at Fox, who looked back at him with comprehension. They'd have to go sooner than they thought.

While Fox repeated the plan they'd all come to agreement on under his breath, Alex watched out for the trucks. There weren't many obvious openings other than the curtain over the back of the truck, which seemed highly cliched to him. Nonetheless, Alex nudged Fox, pointing to the upcoming truck. Fox nodded, and with one last glance back at K-Unit, they were off.

They sidled up to the trail, crouching, preparing for the truck's approach. Alex could make out a series of handles that hung low by the back wheel. He secured his handgun in its holster and licked his lips. The familiar sense of adrenaline washed over him, and he breathed it in like a drug. The truck's dim headlights came closer, closer, nearly obscuring his vision. He listened hard for the tires, the low crunching and rolling, and-

He launched himself at the truck, hand closing around the handle and using his momentum to swing him inside the truck. A pair of men, both dressed in loose clothing, familiar and normal in the city,whipped around. By the time they processed that, _yes,_ a teenager_ did _just flung himself inside the_ moving vehicle_, Alex had lunged forward, uppercutting the larger one sharply. His friend snarled, starting forward, and Alex dropped low, ducking under a fist. His leg shot out, and swept the man's feet out from underneath him. The man hit the ground with a thud, and Alex saw Fox slipping inside the truck out of the corner of his eye.

Fox jumped into action, keeping the man on the ground while Alex flew at the other, swiping his gun and spinning it skillfully, catching the man in his temple. He crumpled to the floor, and Alex glanced at Fox, panting. The man on the ground had gone unconscious, as well.

There was a beat, where Alex and Fox stared at each other, and the men, and back at each other.

Time to become the enemy.

* * *

"So now we just wait?"

Snake's chest seemed to loosen when he saw Alex and Fox enter the truck with ease, but Eagle's impatience hadn't.

"_Yes_, Eagle," Wolf snapped, his own patience wearing thin.

"Well, okay, then," Eagle sat back on his heels, pursing his lips. Snake had a feeling it wouldn't be the last word he heard from the man, but basked in the silence for now.

Snake thought back to Alex's silence on their way here, his curt instructions, his dark eyes. Snake didn't know what he expected, seeing Alex in action, but it certainly wasn't _that_. Maybe he'd been expecting hands running through his hair, eyes darting nervously, clenching and unclenching his fists... Some sign of nervousness. But no. It'd been nearly exactly opposite of that- Alex stood tall and confident, eyes narrowed and observant, voice clipped and quiet.

The very image of all that MI6 stood for, encased and embedded in a child.

It was _wrong_.

It was _immoral_.

It was _unthinkable_.

Snake hadn't been able to imagine Fox in the field, not like this, either. Fox was nearly the same. Quiet, quick, stealthy, slick. Snake had to convince himself, many a time, that this was indeed Fox in front of him, and not some look-a-like.

It may have been Fox, but it certainly wasn't K-Unit's Fox. Not in the field.

Pulling him from his pondering, Wolf muttered, "Snake, ten o'clock."

Glancing left, Snake squinted at the dark figures slinking from the compound. They cast glances around the area, sweeping past Snake, Wolf, and Eagle, and bent their heads together, speaking quick from the looks of it. They went separate directions, walking the perimeter of the compound in a deliberate saunter, eyes on the woods.

"The hell?" Wolf narrowed his eyes. Snake silently agreed, nodding his head. Security hadn't been tight, but surely this wasn't their guard? They could -presumably- barely see a few feet into the woods from where they stood, how could they possibly expect to-

Something moved in the corner of Snake's eye, and he took no time jumping back, hissing, "_Scatter_!" A pair of armed goons sprinted forward, guns up and ready. Wolf lifted his own gun, not taking his eyes off of them, shuffling back. He shot once, twice, catching one of them in the shoulder, and Snake followed suit, shooting low. Immobilizing their legs would mean more escape time.

Eagle maneuvered himself around behind them, catching Snake's plan, shooting at their heels, at the back of their knees. The men moved quick, weaving and twisting, making aim extremely difficult.

Eagle stopped shooting suddenly, straightening up. "Snake, _behind you_!"

Snake whipped around, and locked sights on another pair of men running up the ditch. Shit. Snake focused on slowing them down, but to no avail. They were outnumbered. The men closed in on Snake and Wolf, and one of them broke off to aim at Eagle. "Eagle, _go_!"

For a split second, Eagle stopped moving. His gun fell to his side and for a moment, Snake was almost positive he was going to jump in and fight. But Eagle quelled Snake's worries, turning and darting away, twisting back to shoot at the men. A last effort to help.

His effort was to no avail, and as the barrel of a gun collided with Snake's temple, Snake prayed to whatever God there was that Fox and Alex knew what they were doing.

* * *

It took some real effort, but eventually, Fox and Alex got the clothes to fit.

Fox took the larger man's clothing, while Alex took the smaller one. They changed quickly, disposing the unconscious men out of the back of the truck, and checked each other over. They tucked their guns safely on the insides of the pants -which was surprisingly easy, due to how much more baggy they were than what they had looked like- and dirtied their faces and hair. The truck was mostly empty, save for a few boxes filled with cloth and fabric, and jugs of water.

Alex peeked out of the curtain, licking his lips. They began to approach the compound, and in a matter of seconds the scenery changed from forest to warehouse. A large garage door closed, and the forest slipped under, under, under, until Alex found himself looking at cement, trucks, and other dirtied men. The compound had seemed nearly dead from the outside, the only sound being the crunch of forest under wheels, and distant voices, barely audible. From the inside, it was bustling. People walked with purpose towards the parked trucks, shouting orders behind them, looking determined.

Before anyone began unloading their own truck, Alex and Fox slipped out, hugging the wall until they were near the door of the unloading dock. They entered with an uncanny ease.

The inside of the compound, away from the trucks, was much cleaner, much quieter. Alex would have felt out of place, in his newly found clothing and layer of dirt, if not for the few groups of people looking akin to them that occasionally shuffled by.

Out of the corner of his eye, Alex noticed Fox lifting the walkie talkie to his lips. "We're in," Fox said in a hushed tone, and glanced at Alex. They allowed themselves small smiles, and continued on.

The inside of the compound was like a cleaner version of a parking garage. Rooms were badly labelled, and it seemed as if you couldn't turn a corner without getting cautious looks.

Or maybe that was just Alex.

They needed to first and foremost get locations.

After approximately a half hour shuffling around, silently mapping the building's rooms and places, Fox mumbled to Alex that it was time to go. In nearly every room they'd visited, guards had sized them up, probably wondering why they weren't carrying boxes of supplies like all of the other lackeys. The number of guards doubled noticeably as their time dragged on, and after a nasty, venomous smirk from one of the guards, Alex silently agreed.

They turned the way they'd come, taking caution not to speed up or slow down. Casual. They were here because they belonged here. They had business here. Nothing suspicious about that.

Alex and Fox turned down a hallway, and the garage was nearly in sight, and- what was this? Alex stopped short, eyes locked on a non-labelled room in the shadow of one of the larger areas. The door was painted dark, and less people seemed to linger around that area. But just enough for Alex to slip in and see.

Fox had followed his gaze, and was shaking his head. "No, we got most of what we need, Alex, come on."

"I'll be quick." Alex breathed, and before Fox could protest further, Alex was off, skirting through people to get to the door. He turned as if he were leaning against it and exhaled in relief to find that, when twisting the knob, the door opened inwards. He fell back, stepping into the room and twisting to shut the door behind him.

The room wasn't a room, but a staircase. It was steep, and deep, and Alex took extra caution descending it. At the bottom was yet another door. After opening it cautiously, Alex peered in.

Sure it was empty, he slipped inside, looking around sharply. The room was white. The walls, painted a pearl white, and the table in the middle, white tablecloth, cream table, cream chairs... A small bed in the corner; unsurprisingly white.

The sudden overload of the color nearly blinded him. The lights were so incredibly _bright_, how was it possible to _see_ in here-

The sound of the door closing made Alex whip around in surprise. He hadn't even heard it open.

A pair of gray eyes peered back at him, accented by that slanted smile that challenging expression.

"MI6's loyal dog," Klaus Hardy drawled. "What a _lovely_ surprise."

A pair of suits appeared behind Hardy, and with a pair of sneers and an order from Hardy, they advanced.

* * *

There was a kink in his neck.

It's a familiar feeling. The kind you get when falling asleep with your head bent at an awkward angle, and wake up stiff. Actually, his head was bowed forward, and when he thought about it, groggily, his back felt stiff and uncomfortable, as well. He lifted his head slowly -it wasn't an easy task, at the moment- and blearily blinked his eyes. His entire back groaned as he straightened up, and leaned back, stretching. Looking around, he could make out a dim room. A small table was in front of where he sat, all but bolted to the chair. There was a mirror to his right (likely a one-way window that gave whoever was on the other side freedom to observe him) and a door to his left. He recognized the similarities between this room and a police interrogation room.

The door opened slowly, and a woman swept into the room. Her hair was adorned with diamond trinkets that, even in this dim light, glinted like stars against her sunny hair. It was done up in a tight bun, with the exception of a few strands, curled to perfection, hanging by her temples. She was a pale woman- she'd be easily spotted in a crowd here, with all the tanned skin and dark hair. Her lips were painted a devilish red, her eyes shimmering with a cat-like mirth. Her figure was one of an hourglass, and she sauntered with graceful ease. Her features, overall, were delicate and sharp.

She approached the table slowly, a cat prowling towards the fishbowl, nails black as night tapping harmoniously against the table. She glanced up at him after a moment, and her lips curled into a smile. "Alex Rider."

She took a seat, slowly, and leaned back, observing him. "I've heard much about you, you know." Alex detected a hint of a British accent in her tone, and narrowed his eyes. It probably wasn't as intimidating as he hoped.

"I can't say the same about you."

The woman tilted her head, her curls following suit with a bounce. She tapped her fingers lightly, a -satisfied?- smile slipping across her face.

This was ridiculous. Who was she? She certainly wasn't in the file- Alex would know, he memorized that damn file back to front, front to back. His lack of knowledge frustrated him. The frustration increased with each tap of her nails against metal.

"I must admit," she sighed, long and drawn out, "you're much _younger_ than I expected. They talked about you like you were some lethal assassin." Her eyes scanned his face, and she huffed a laugh. "Though I suppose you must get that a lot."

"Who are you?" Alex bit out. Enough with the games. Where was Fox? Did they get him, did they get all of them? Or did the others get away?

"No one of much concern, really," The woman glanced towards the door quickly. "I'm _actually_ not supposed to be in here with you." She shrugged her shoulders delicately, smiling. "Well, he wont know. He's gone out. Business or other. Not sure." She sniffed. "He never tells me where he's going. Its quite unnerving, having to always wonder. You know?"

Alex swallowed. He did know. His mind went to Ian. "He?" She must've been talking about Hardy.

She ignored him, crossing her legs, clasping her hands over her knees. "He's almost completely ignored me lately... Too busy making sure people like _you_ don't come to take him away, to demolish what he's worked so hard to build up." There was a split second of silence, and she breathes, "He's worked so hard." Alex wondered where the conversation had gone.

The woman stood abruptly, crossing the room to where Alex sat, bound. Glancing down, Alex noticed that she was barefoot. She tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling his head up gently to look at her. She ran a hand through Alex's hair, trailing her manicured nails down the side of his face, his neck, over his shoulder... Her nails dug into his arm as she dragged them down, down, down towards the restraint around his wrist. When she pulled away, red lines colored his skin, pale and clammy. He was faintly reminded of the time Sabina's cat scratched his hand. The memory startled him, and he licked his lips.

"Drat," the woman said without much real regret. "Now he'll know I was here."

Alex was beginning to question her sanity.

The woman looked at him and pursed her lips. "Its been a pleasure, Alex. I hope I'll see you again before you're killed off." She smiled as if she'd just said, "Let's hang out, sometime."

She padded out of the room, bouncing with each step, and the door clicked shut behind her. It was then that Alex realized that he'd failed to find out whether or not the others were caught.

* * *

Okay, so hopefully this chapter was noticeably longer than the last one! Haha.

I feel really unsatisfied with this chapter, but I've gone through and changed things and by now I'm saying "what the hell" and just throwing it out there, so hopefully it won't be too rotten! :)

Reviews are much appreciated, and thank you for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

_Hi_! Wow sorry about this long random absence I've had! Haha, I actually completely forgot about this story. My bad, real sorry for those of you who enjoy and look forward to it! This isn't as long as I'd like it to be, but I've been sitting here writing and rewriting it and I just can't seem to get it right. :/ but I'm hoping this will rid me of this writer's block. I'm pretty sure it will. Over the next few days, I'll definitely be writing the next chapter. Again, sorry! Thanks for reading, and for those of you who requested I write longer chapters, you're probably glaring at the screen right now, haha! I'll definitely try to improve that for you, but I'm sorry to say this chapter is not that improvement. :') Anyway, thanks again! Enjoy!

* * *

Alex had managed to keep awake and sane for around an hour -it felt like an hour, at least, he had no way of knowing- before he heard muffled voices outside the room. The words were unidentifiable, but he was just able to pick out the stronger, more aggressive voice that spat its words (Alex presumed that was Hardy) and a much quieter voice, feminine, sounding almost afraid. The mute conversation went on for a few more minutes before one voice broke off, and the door was shoved open. Harley marched in, his posture straight and tense, with a short woman, looking about twenty five, following behind timidly. Her eyes were cast down, and her hair -wavy and brown- was dirty and unkempt. The same applied to her clothes, which were wrinkled and stained with mud or other.

"Alex Rider," Hardy's voice was deep, and made Alex's insides freeze. There was something about his tone, the way he delivered his sentences, that made him seem almost blurry. You couldn't focus on him, and could barely keep hold of the words he was stringing together, when he spoke. His eyes bore into Alex, and the teen had to count to ten to completely resist struggling with all of his might. He couldn't place it, but something about this man wasn't right. In his picture, Alex had seen a man with all bark, and no bite. Here, he seemed completely opposite. "It seems you've stumbled into the wrong setting, Mr. Rider."

Alex's mouth was dry. He kept his silence.

"This," Hardy went on, hand gesturing to the room, "is no place for a schoolboy, don't you think? Isn't there something going on, by this time of year? Final exams, I believe, but correct me if I'm wrong." The silence that followed was stressed, and a rumbling laugh erupted from Harley. It wasn't comforting. "I'm kidding, of course," His tone was light, but his eyes were dark, "Correct me if I'm wrong, but you haven't been in school for quite a while." When Alex didn't retort, he went on. "My sister had a son, once. Fine young bloke, always on top of his work and his social life. Football team, class president, all of that business. Your age. In fact," His head tilted to the right, and his eyes intently skimmed Alex's face, "he looked a bit like you."

A long silence followed, and Hardy leaned back in his chair, expression grimly humorous. "Nobody saw it coming when he shot himself in the head."

The girl standing behind Harley flinched, her lip trembling. Alex felt as if he'd been hit, his breath escaping him in a sweep. He forced himself to look Hardy in the eyes. "That's a shame." Alex finally replied, thanking God for the steadiness of his voice. "Sounded like a good kid."

Hardy nodded absently. "He was."

The scratches the blond woman from before had left on him tingled, and as if he could read Alex's mind, Hardy glanced down at the marks. A small, sour smile tugged at the man's lips, and he said, "I see she got to you before I did."

"Your sister?" Alex blurted, mind going back to the strange woman.

Hardy nodded slowly, again. "Yes. Lottie. Lovely woman, isn't she?" He shook his head. "Lovely and broken."

Alex could definitely make out the resemblances, now. Both blond, both grey eyed, both bearing that challenging expression, daring you to make your move. So her son had committed suicide, and what? How did she end up here? Surely that would have been in the file. Alex struggled to remember. He was feeling less confident about his knowledge of the file- what he thought he remembered could have been distorted after that nasty knock out.

"Why am I here?" Alex's voice flowed with confidence, however. Whether he knew the information or not, there were some serious issues in this family. Alex would know.

Hardy's eyes flashed, and he spoke sharp and quick. "You tell me. After all," His arms spread wide, "you were the one on my territory. Not the other way around." Hardy paused, before deciding to grace Alex with an answer. "I've heard about your successes, Mr. Rider. Drevin, Grief, Rothman," Hardy looked impressed. Alex felt momentarily disgusted. "Those are feats you should wear proudly, Alex. Oh- speaking of Cray, you also offed Gregorovich, did you not? Tell me, did you watch him die?"

Alex's insides twisted. "What's your point?"

"You're quite an asset, Alex," the man replied, almost passionately. "Your skills, when tamed and honed, could be a definite advantage."

Alex was quiet.

"I intend to show you just how useful you are." Hardy paused. "With a bit of cooperation and effort, you could become much more than just a weapon of mass fear-inducing destruction." He leaned forward, his eyes alight with a new fire. He looked much more like his mug shot now. "You could become so much more."

Alex felt like throwing up. The room's stoic appearance, the mystery that is Klaus Hardy, the girl looking intently at the floor… it was all too confusing. There was no information on any of this. Hardy sold drugs illegally. Yet, here he was, with so much more to the story. Alex must have betrayed his thoughts on his face, because Hardy smiled, as if supremely satisfied with the way things were going, and stood. The chair screeched miserably against the floor. "Everything will be explained in due time, Mr. Rider. For now, you'll be staying with us. Marie will show you there. I highly suggest you do not make any idiotic attempts at leaving," Hardy's smile held an air of pride, "it would be most unwise. I happen to have a large number of supporters who are informed of your identity, and are willing to give an arm on the spot for me." Hardy was out the door by then, his laugh booming. "Literally."

* * *

Outside of the room was a series of hallways. Alex wasn't even sure whether or not he was still in the compound he and Fox had been in before. It certainly didn't look like it. Marie walked briskly in front of him, shoulders hunched, silent. She hadn't spoken a word, and though Alex desperately wanted to reach out to her, possibly convince her that this was all insane, maybe he could even go as far as making her believe it was all a mistake, he was just a well-off kid. But, somehow, he couldn't bring himself to utter a word.

After what seemed like hours, Marie opened the door at the end of a hallway that had been nothing but turns. Before stepping in, Alex glanced behind him. He could run. He was trained, he could definitely take at least half of whomever Hardy had been talking about before.

"Mr. Rider."

Alex's insides turned to ice at the tone, chilled and clipped, and he glanced back at Marie. Her eyes held something akin to disdain; upon closer inspection, they were almost filled with loathing. For what? Surely it couldn't have been Alex. He'd never before heard, or seen anything, of this girl. But the way she spoke his name- it was familiar. Not to him, but he inferred that she knew of him. Quite well, presumably, if the way her expression was slowly sinking into a scowl was anything to go by. He tried to pick out any familiar physical features she bore. Perhaps she was tied to one of Alex's many enemies. Her face was nothing memorable. Not to say she was unattractive, but she was simply bland. Brown eyes, tan skin, brown hair. Her nose was average, as was her facial structure. One thing Alex was positive about- she didn't closely resemble anyone. Nobody that came to mind, at least.

Alex moved without thinking, advancing into the room, and before he had the chance to even turn around, the door shut behind him with a deafening click. It was large, and metal, and Alex was fairly sure that this door held no wiggle room in the escape department. He checked, regardless, observing every aspect of the door, before turning his attention to the room. It was average sized- probably about the size of his bedroom. The walls were gray, and the floor and ceiling were black. The only furniture in the room was a bed, a mirror, a sink, and a toilet. Unfortunately for him, privacy didn't seem to be a factor here.

Alex sank down on the bed, testing it out. It was quality enough. Springy yet soft, not stiff. The mirror was cleaned thoroughly- as were the sink and toilet. The room had been prepared. For his arrival?

Lowering to his hands and knees, Alex looked under the bed. Underneath it sat a duffle bag. Alex dragged it out, and found a new set of clothes inside, clean and ironed (a souvenir T-shirt with Sri Lanka in a tropical font, and a pair of sweat pants, also courtesy of a souvenir shop, so Alex's dry amusement), and a set of supplies. A tooth brush, tooth paste, deodorant, rolls of toilet paper… Yes, this had definitely been prepared. He was sure of that as he slipped on the fresh clothes- they fit perfectly. Alex kept the dirty clothes in the duffle bag, and slid it back under the bed. Alex then sat up and gave the room a final once over. Once he was satisfied with his inspection, Alex returned to the bed. Only then was he aware of how exhausted he really was. It had been night time when they'd set out- Alex assumed it was sometime in the early morning. He'd have to ask.

Deciding there was no harm in sleeping (he didn't seem to be in any immediate danger) Alex slipped under the covers and faced the room, back against the wall. He kept the light on.


End file.
